


Do not go across the sea.

by Alexander_Slamilton



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, George is just so tall and awkward, Lafayette is small and confused, M/M, Merry Christmas, Summer, Sunsets, glorious fluff, gratuitous use of French, mount vernon, swifts, there is literally only a mention of angst, this fic is summery to remind you of better weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 00:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9048661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexander_Slamilton/pseuds/Alexander_Slamilton
Summary: Lafayette visits Mount Vernon, and George gives him the full tour... I wrote this for the history secret santa on tumblr so... Merry Chrismas





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jane_Bishop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jane_Bishop/gifts).



Lafayette stared at the house, the sun was setting low over the Potomac river; the rays glinting off the red roof tiles, turning the white wood cladding pink. He stood in the entrance to Mount Vernon, a footman, reached over to take his bags. Swifts darted through the darkening blue sky in clouds of black wings, forming the most peculiar shapes and patterns. He breathed in and out once, twice, letting the cooling summer air wash over him. He had the strangest urge to divest himself of his stockings and shoes and let his feet cool in circular patch of grass just behind him, he didn’t, however, he had no want to cause a scene. Instead, he let himself study the house. What a fine house it was, clad in white, with dark shutters; arched walk ways encircled him, leading to smaller out houses. His coach had drawn up to the house on a path lined with huge trees, pines and others alike, they created a most pleasant shade in the hot Virginia sun. He heard footsteps on the gravel behind him and turned to see George crunching up the path. His mood, tired and sweaty from travelling, instantly improved; he felt weight already taken off his shoulders. 

 

“Marquis, my boy, I hope the journey wasn't too long and arduous?” George asked, grasping him by the shoulders and kissing him twice on the cheeks. 

 

“Non, it was fine, we weren't bothered by anyone and went about our way quickly enough, though, I wish you could have travelled with me. The hours would have gone by much quicker, had you not had to travel here so soon.” Lafayette waved a hand and kissed George in a fond greeting.

 

“Ah, but my boy, it was you who wished to visit with Alexander and John in Philadelphia; not I,” George smiled and squeezed his shoulder, “though, this old house will be much less lonely with you around, I am sure.” 

 

“I look forward to seeing it when the snow comes in winter; I am sure Christmas here is most spectacular,” Lafayette looked up at Washington and smiled.

 

“Indeed it is, though that is a few months away, yet,” Washington said, moving towards the house, “shall I give you a tour?”

 

“Oui, I do not wish to get lost in your house,” said Lafayette.

 

“Oh I don’t know, it would be nice to have an excuse to keep you in the country a few months longer,” Washington grinned and placed a hand on Lafayette’s shoulder to guide him inside the house. 

 

The entrance way was cladded in dark wood panelling, exquisitely carved and almost glossy as the light shone on it from the open door. The floor was covered in a fluffy white carpet and Lafayette’s shoes sunk into it. It smelled like home and he could hear the river and the birds that lived on it, croaking and cawing. He could hear the wind as it ghosted along the trees, shaking their branches ever so slightly; brining in a cool breeze to lighten the oppressive summer heat. Light poured in from the double doors that opened up in the hall, a window by the doors afforded an even more complete view of the grass leading down to the river. The swifts were still dancing and darting about in the air. 

 

“Come, which way would you like to go, though I must admit, I am saving the piazza for last,” George chuckled and gestured to the doors that lined the entrance way. 

 

“Hmm, perhaps this way?” Lafayette pointed to a friendly looking blue room, the first door on the left.

 

“The parlour, a good choice,” Washington smiled and, keeping his hand firmly on Lafayette’s shoulder brought him into the room.

 

The rest of the tour went in much the same fashion, Lafayette picking rooms and Washington guiding him through them; telling him about his late wife (Martha had died of a fever not a year before) and the building of the house. He found himself falling in love with the white cladded mansion, the house felt so right, so homely; he found himself longing to stay there forever, to create a home for himself in the country he had fought for, the country he had fallen for. 

 

“Now, for the main event,” Washington said as they walked down the central staircase and back in to the main entrance way, “the piazza was constructed in the classical Greek style. It’s covered because I love going out and watching the rain on the river, I do not however like getting wet.”

 

“I suppose it’s wonderful for watching the sunset?” Lafayette asked, an eyebrow raised.

 

“Of course it is my dear boy,” Washington smiled softly, brining Lafayette through the central passage and on to the piazza.

 

Lafayette’s breath caught in his throat, chocking him slightly, he gasped as they walked on to the tiles and leant on one of the chairs that lined the edge of the grass. The view encompassed the river, and the trees beyond it, making an almost perfectly straight line to contrast with the brilliant pink sky. The sun ghosted down along the tops of the trees, it was cut perfectly in half as it set. The swifts were almost done with their dance, finding a place for them to rest for the night, the settled in one of the great trees that towered over the rest, branches reaching in to the sky. The sky was wine stained pink, and purple, and red, and orange, the few clouds that were in the sky reflected the colours and made them even more vibrant. The breeze danced along the tree tops and across the lazily flowing river and up the steep banks the house rested on, to cool the air and help Lafayette breath again. It had to be the most perfect sight he ever saw, almost a beautiful as his belovéd France. 

 

The Potomac was too wide to see across, but Lafayette almost imagined the people on the other side watching the same sight he was. He had fought for this country’s freedom and now he allowed himself to revel in its sheer beauty. The air was hazy across the river, and the blue water was stained with the colours of the sunset, though here they all blended together, a pallet of smeared and yet vibrant colour. 

 

“It is quite beautiful, is it not?” George said, coming to stand beside him. 

 

“Oui, it is the most beautiful sight I have ever seen,” Lafayette nodded, turning to face his General, as the suncame to rest beyond the horizon, only the tip of its brilliant light visible above the tops of the trees. George stood, tall and proud, everything Lafayette aspired to be. Yet, George was everything Lafayette _wanted._

 

“I would keep you here forever,” George whispered, as though he was afraid to say the words out loud, afraid to make them real, “if you would permit it.”

 

“I would stay here forever, if you would have me?” Lafayette looked in to George’s eyes, memorising the colours in them. 

 

“Of course, I-“ but he never finished speaking, Lafayette had taken his face in his hands and kissed him. So softly that George had almost thought he’d imagined it. He almost pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, because suddenly his arms were full of blushing Frenchman. They kissed as the sun continued its journey below the horizon, the sky turning a darker shade of blue, and the swifts; their day over, nested in the trees by the Potomac river. 


End file.
